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Sugar Static

Someone once told her she smiled like a riot grrrl with a lullaby stuck in her throat. She laughs at that now, alone in a dive bar bathroom, retracing her lips with a glittery purple tube she stole from a girl who cried to Nirvana on karaoke night. Outside, the jukebox scratches through “Heart-Shaped Box” while the crowd trades broken hearts like candy necklaces — sweet, temporary, dissolving on the tongue. kandi kobain